


Nemesis, February 1975

by BobbyCrocker101



Category: Kojak (TV 1973)
Genre: 1970s, Attempted Murder, Detectives, Extortion, Extortionists, Gen, Manhattan South, NYPD, New York City, Protection Rackets, Racketeers, Take-Overs, homicides, murders, racketeering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobbyCrocker101/pseuds/BobbyCrocker101
Summary: Nemesis – an opponent or rival one cannot overcome.Kojak’s thoughts concerning the events that occurred in the Season 2 episode “Unwanted Partners” with a few changes and bits added.This is an original story set in February 1975, and is a companion piece to my story 'Hell Hath no Fury'Feedback welcome





	Nemesis, February 1975

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters belong to me; I'm just playing with them for a while before putting them back in their box. No money is being, or will be made from this story.
> 
> I was 15 in September 1973 when "Kojak" first aired, and had other things to do. Now I'm retired I’ve finally watched this wonderful old TV show for the first time. I’m from the UK and have never visited the US, but have made use of the internet to gain information about the NYPD and the city of New York. I apologise in advance for any language confusion.
> 
> In the Season 2 episode “Nursemaid” (1974) Crocker’s ID shows him to have been born in 1943 which would make him 32 in 1975, but because he's occasionally referred to as being very young and is often called "Kid" or "Junior", my version of him was born in 1951 which makes him 24 in this story. In the season 1 episode “Deliver us Some Evil” (1974) Crocker mentions a sister, but since she's never referred to again, I've created my own version of her. She is the only 'biological' relative I'm allowing him to have. And as little is known about his back story, I've made up my own version.
> 
> Original characters: Molly Donovan and Rose Crocker. The police captain at the hospital when Valano is injured was not named in the episode. I've called him Captain Reynolds.
> 
> Spoilers: Major spoilers for the Season 2 episode 'Unwanted Partners'
> 
> Note: Although this can be read as a stand-alone story, I would recommend watching the episode, and then reading my story "Hell Hath no Fury" first.
> 
> The Season 2 episode “Unwanted Partners” (1975) upon which this story is based implies that Bobby Crocker’s “old neighbourhood” is in the vicinity of Manor Avenue in The Bronx, but there is at least one other episode that refers to him as having grown up in Jackson Heights, while his friend Benny Marino is referred to as being “a wild man from The Bronx”. I’ve got round this by having Benny Marino move from The Bronx to Jackson Heights when he was a child, which is when he and Crocker met.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a little after 02:00 when I opened the door and quietly walked into the hospital room. Unconscious and lying on his back was my detective; seriously injured, but thankfully still alive and slowly recovering. I went over to the bed and looked down at him. His bottom half was covered by a pale blue hospital blanket, his top half by dark blue hospital scrubs. Through the open collar I could see the dressing covering the wound in his chest and a wire which snaked across the pillow and connected to a heart monitor; there as a precaution the doctor had told me. A mask covered his nose and mouth; as an assist, the doctor had said, and on the lowest setting. Crocker could breathe unaided but just needed a little help. Both wrists were bandaged to hold the multiple IVs in place. Molly Donovan, his foster mother, was standing over by the window staring out into the dark. His sister was sitting in a chair by the bed, her hand in his. Molly and I were old friends, but I’d never met Rose Crocker before last night, and was surprised by how different she was in appearance to her brother with her long dark straight hair and brown eyes. But that conversation could wait for another time, another place….

Monday morning two weeks earlier

I’d received the call a little after midnight to say there had been an incident at Jake’s Discotheque across town. The place had been smashed up and a number of people had suffered minor injuries, but one, a guy named Harry Block had been shot and was on his way to the hospital.

When I arrived I spotted Crocker’s car parked between a couple of squad cars. Saperstein and Rizzo were out on the street talking to witnesses. I headed down the steps into the bar. The place was a mess; broken glass everywhere, smashed furniture. Stavros was busy interviewing the bar staff, but my attention was caught by the guy sitting at the end of the bar holding an ice-pack to his face: former professional boxer; ‘Tony the Rock’. 

I’d once seen him fight at the Old Garden, and he looked to be in pretty much the same shape now as he was then. He was no Muhamad Ali, but even so, I was surprised to see that someone had landed a cheap shot even on HIS jaw. I went and sat next to him and asked him what had happened. At first he claimed not to know anything, but finally he said that he’d gone to straighten out some ‘beef’ at one of the tables, and had been punched in the face for his trouble. I could see that despite all his boxing training the man was scared, and implied as much when he remarked that he wasn’t about to climb into the ring with any ‘heavyweights’, not on HIS salary. I asked him if the ‘lollypops’ that had wrecked the bar had been ‘connected’, but he refused to say anything more, so I left him to go and get his face looked at.

I looked round for the one person I’d not seen when I walked into the bar; my detective. I spotted him over by the window sitting at the one intact table in the room with Jake Grubert the bar owner. I could see Crocker wasn’t happy about something, I also noticed he wasn’t writing anything in his notebook. I walked over and as I neared the table two words reached my ears; ‘kid’ and ‘junior’; I don’t know why exactly, but if there’s one thing Crocker hates it’s being called ‘kid’. I have to say it doesn’t do much for ME either, unless I’m the one calling him that, then it’s OK because I’m his boss and I can call him what I like.

Though not the youngest, at twenty-four Crocker is still very young for a detective, but even so I still expect him to be treated with the same respect as any other member of the New York Police Department. I sat myself down at the table, and holding out my hand introduced myself to Mr Grubert. I then introduced him to Detective Robert Crocker. Then I spelt it out for him; that how he answered Detective Crocker’s questions was his own business and he could pay for any white lies he was throwing around later down at the precinct. However I told him, how he SPOKE to Detective Crocker was MY business, and I explained what I would do if I heard him call Crocker ‘kid’ again.

Not wanting his joint turned into a garage where I would ‘stiff’ him quarter tips to park my car Grubert agreed to come down to my office later in the day. In the meantime I told him to go with Stavros to the hospital and get the cut on his forehead looked at. I also asked Stavros to check and see how Harry Block was doing, and ordered Crocker to take everyone’s statement and meet me back at the office. In the meantime I needed to check in with ‘our man about town’ Detective Mike Valano.

Like ‘our man in Harlem’ Gil Weaver, Mike Valano works mostly undercover: his specialty being licensed premises. I filled him in about what had happened up at Jake’s place and showed him the knuckle duster I’d picked up off the floor and asked if he recognised the ‘signature’. He was puzzled. He recognised it, but as far as he was aware it belonged exclusively to the guys up in the Bronx. He asked me if Harry Block had been ‘mobbed up’, but at that time we didn’t know anything about the man. 

Valano spends most of his time working in and hanging around the bars and clubs the mob has already got control of, and no word had reached him about anything new going down in Manhattan. I told him there had been three joints wrecked in mid-town during the past month; there had been no explanations, no complaints and no one had seen anything. I wondered if they might have been take-over operations, but Valano reminded me that our friend ‘Flicky’ was the muscle on THOSE moves and he’s in the ‘can’ doing three to five. I asked if it could be the work of renegades, but as he rightly pointed out you would have to be crazy to even try anything solo since that was Arnie Naylor’s ‘bag’ and you don’t touch anything without giving HIM half the takings or you’ve bought yourself a harp. Arnie Naylor; how I’d like to nail HIM! I asked Valano to keep his eyes and ears open and headed back to the precinct.

It was just before 05:00 when I walked into the squad room. Crocker was talking to someone on the phone but when he saw me he ended his call and followed me into my office. I knew he’d been puzzled by my behaviour over at Jake’s. Usually I let my men get on with their investigating, but as I explained to him I resent anyone calling a New York detective ‘kid’. Of course I told him, being his boss I could call him anything I wanted, which I did, regularly, whether he liked it or not. I yelled for Stavros who, taking his time eventually walked into my office complete with a cup of coffee. Despite it being very early in the day and figuring he could use the exercise I sent him down to CIB and Safe & Loft to pick up the extortion records on everything currently happening in Greater Manhattan. 

During all this Rizzo arrived in my office to inform me that he’d just heard from the hospital; Harry Block had passed away at 04:55. As far as he was able to discover the man had been a draftsman who worked for the Danemar Construction Company, a job he’d been doing for twelve years. He was married with two kids and had a home on Staten Island. Square as they come he said; and dead as they come I thought.

Monday afternoon

Having thought about it for a while, I decided I needed to speak to Moishe; New York cab driver and informant to yours truly and also, as I was about to discover, a long-time acquaintance of one Robert Crocker. Moishe tended to hang around a taxi stand down-town, and that was where we found him; leaning against his cab reading a newspaper. 

I pulled up in front of the vehicle, having made sure he’d seen Crocker crossing the street to make like he was 'casing' the diner opposite. Moishe came over to greet me, and asked me what was up. He never gives away anything without making some kind of game of it, so I told him we were looking for a guy. He asked what guy. I told him a guy; one who had been smashing up joints in mid-town. He asked why this guy should come down-town. I said he was coming here to eat. Moishe replied that the guy could eat up-town, that he wasn’t coming ‘here’. At that moment I knew for certain Moishe had heard something. I told him that was the information I’d been given. Moishe asked again who we were waiting for. I lied and told him we were waiting for ‘Flicky’. Moishe didn’t fall for it for a second. He accused me of being a Mickey Mouse detective and reminded me that ‘Flicky’ was in the ‘can’. He also told me that despite the description I had, the guy we were looking for was a kid. 

A kid! I asked him; would a KID be pulling these kinds of moves? I told him he was heading for the funny farm. He then told me that I should wait until I saw ‘Benny’. That ‘Benny’ would tell me how crazy he was. I tried to get more information on this ‘Benny’, but all Moishe knew what that the kid was some wild man from the Bronx and he didn’t know his last name or anything else about him, but if I wanted to know I should go ask Crocker because he and this ‘Benny’ had grown up together and were tight friends. I looked across the street to where my detective was standing, doing just what I’d told him to do and my spidey senses started tingling and not in a good way

****

On our way back to the precinct I asked Crocker about his friend. He told me the guy’s name was Benny Marino and that he’d moved from the Bronx to Jackson Heights when he was ten, that they’d grown up together on 91st Street; same neighbourhood, same school, and sometimes they’d even dated the same ‘chick’. He’d not seen him in over five years; not since he went in the Army, but he HAD heard a rumour that Benny had got into some trouble and had just finished serving a deuce up-state, and that thanks to an influential relative he'd managed to avoid the draft. He then cautiously asked me why I wanted to know about the guy. I told him about my suspicions; that this ‘Benny’ might have been involved in the fracas at Jake’s, maybe even the killing.

As I knew he would, Crocker immediately went on the defensive and informed me that although Benny had never been wired right, something else that set alarm bells ringing in my head, he wasn’t a killer. Of course there was no way Crocker could know what kind of person his friend was now, not after more than five years, and especially not after he’d been sampling the ‘delights’ of the penal system for the past two. Figuring he’d have no trouble finding this ‘Benny’, I sent my detective off on a mission; to ask around and find the man.

Tuesday afternoon

I walked into the squad room and seeing Crocker at his desk called him into my office. He’d traced his friend to a suite at the City Squire Inn on 7th Avenue, and judging by his cheerful mood they’d obviously spent a happy few hours together reminiscing. Shame I was about the spoil his day for him. I handed him a yellow sheet and asked if the man in the photograph was his friend. He replied that it was, and that he was currently hanging around with some ‘jerk’ called Lester; a real ‘punk’ that he’d served time with in Attica. I asked him what he thought BENNY was and I knew I wasn’t going to like Crocker’s answer even before he opened his mouth. How had he put it? Benny was just another working ‘stiff’ trying to hustle an honest buck. A little bitter now, but according to him, the same guy he used to know. 

I asked Crocker if he’d heard anything from Valano. He replied that he’d called earlier to say he could be contacted at home. Looking at my watch the chances were the man would be asleep, having worked all night, but I picked up my phone and dialled his number anyway. 

While I was waiting for Valano to pick up I handed Crocker another yellow sheet and asked him if he recognised the man in the photograph: racketeer Arnie Naylor. I was surprised when he replied that he DID, that the man was his friend's uncle. Crocker insisted he didn’t know that Naylor was ‘connected’. I reminded him there was a whole library of stuff out there that he didn’t know. Now that I had a connection linking his friend Benny to the mob I knew I was on the right track. Perhaps Arnie was inducting his nephew into the ‘family business’.

Valano finally answered his phone and I asked him if he had anything to report. He mentioned that he’d been to a bar called ‘Fred’s’ over on 52nd and Lex. The owner had had a ‘move’ made on him, but wasn’t prepared to go to court. However, he WAS prepared to let Valano work there as a barman long enough to ID the man making the ‘moves’, and we could take it from there. Knowing Valano was out on his own without back-up I told him to be careful and put the phone down.

Crocker was still standing in my office looking at Arnie Naylor’s yellow sheet. He asked me if he could work on the case with Valano, but I knew he was only asking because he wanted to disprove my suspicions about his friend, and I told him sharply that unless he’d suddenly become the resident expert on ‘take-overs’ there was no way I was going to let him. Crocker looked puzzled, so I elaborated. “Wise guys go into a successful operation,” I told him. “They drop a big criminal name and say that for a certain amount of money each week the owner will have no ‘problems’. However, if he should hesitate they would wreck the joint and maybe a few heads into the bargain.” Crocker thought I was talking about the old ‘protection’ racket, which I suppose I was, but this was the ‘new and improved’ version. So I continued; “pretty soon the owner has a new bar tender, a new bouncer or a new waiter until he’s left talking to himself. The licence remains in his name, but they then start stripping the place; of cash and assets.” I could see Crocker finally understood what I was talking about and left him my office to mull it all over while I went and spoke to the captain. I hoped Frank was in a good mood as I needed a big favour.

****

“Six men? You got King Kong trapped on the Empire State Building?!” That went well I thought. In the end I settled for four men including myself: Frank suggested taking Valano since he was off the chart anyway, Crocker because he’s gung-ho enough for two men, and Stavros because his ferns needed a rest. Once back in the squad room I began to put my plan in place. Crocker knew the layout of the motel, including which suite Benny was in. In addition he was the only one who knew what Benny and his cohort Lester looked like. The plan was to stake out the place. If our 'targets' left, Crocker and Stavros were to 'tail' them, and ‘toss’ the car if they could, get it towed away if they needed to, but leave the men alone, for now. Crocker still thought his friend was innocent and that we were wasting our time. For his sake I wanted to believe that too, but I couldn’t. The more I thought about it, the more I knew this ‘Benny’ was involved. 

Valano was already set up at Fred’s Bar. It was currently 14:00 I told Crocker and Stavros to go home and get some sleep and to meet me down-town at 23:00. But before I let him go, I asked my detective to accompany me to Jake’s

****

The bar was looking a little less broken than it had been the last time we were there, although judging from the sound of glass crunching underfoot it was far from fixed. Jake was tidying up behind the bar and looked rather sheepish as we approached, with good reason. He was supposed to have been in my office at 09:00 this morning, but he informed me that his attorney had advised him to stay away. I asked to see his licence. He fetched it from under the counter. I noticed it had been issued to a Mrs Mary Grubert, his wife I assumed. Jake it seemed had a record and therefore couldn’t have a licence in his OWN name. I pointed out that this was undisclosed ownership, something that could get him shut down. He finally agreed to come to the station in the morning, but only after he’d spoken to his wife. I thought that was taking women’s liberation a bit far, but if it got the man into my office I was happy. What I wasn’t happy about was how quiet Crocker was. I teased him and told him I really love him especially when he’s nice and quiet, but in truth I was concerned, and looking across at him as we left Jake’s I could see there was some kind of battle going on behind those grey eyes. I'd picked up early on in our ‘relationship’ that sometime in his past he’d been badly hurt and had built a wall around himself as protection. Now I could see cracks in that wall.

Tuesday night

I was on my way out to join Crocker and Stavros outside the motel when the phone rang. It was the hospital to say that Valano had been beaten up and was currently in the ER at City General receiving treatment. I rushed down there and found him under the tender care of a very attractive nurse. The doctor reported that Valano would live; he had a couple of cracked ribs, concussion, slight fracture of the right arm, cuts and bruises. In the room as well was Captain Reynolds, a man well-known for his dislike of detectives or ‘golden boys’ as he calls us. He was busy accusing Valano of being drunk and disorderly while on duty. So I made a big issue of explaining things to him. The man wasn’t happy, but I didn’t care. He was only acting out because HE’D never made detective. Once the doctors had finished with him I took Valano home. On the way there he told me he'd recognised one of the men who had attacked him; a guy called Mickey who was a bartender from the street, but he couldn’t remember which bar or the guy’s last name. But Arnie Naylor was definitely involved he told me: they were using his name. Valano had done a good job, but sadly it wasn’t enough to go to court with. 

****

I finally met up with Stavros and Crocker: they were parked near the lights facing the front of the motel. As far as they knew Benny and Lester were inside and hadn’t moved all evening. Stavros pointed out that there had been a lot of comings and goings and that one guy who’d left in a large car might have been Arnie Naylor, but it had been hard to tell from our out-of-date mugshot. I told them about Valano. At first Crocker was concerned, but then he pointed out that since Benny hadn’t left the motel all evening it couldn’t have been anything to do with HIM. Angrily I reminded him that there were four people in this operation that we knew of, the other two being the ones who’d ‘stomped’ on Valano, and who was to say that Benny wasn’t sitting up in his suite laughing about it all. Angrily Crocker got out of the car, saying he was going for coffee. I noticed the look of concern on Stavros’ face; no doubt it matched my own. I watched my detective as he crossed the street and wondered, not for the first time, if I should pull him off the case.

Wednesday morning

I was asleep on the fold-away bed I keep in my office when Rizzo woke me up to inform me that Jake Grubert was waiting out in the Squad Room and had brought his wife with him. I invited them in and was surprised to see that Mrs Grubert was a smart attractive woman, far brighter than her husband who I’m glad to say let her do the talking. She started by telling me that as the owner of the bar she had a right to be present at our discussion. I couldn’t argue with that. She asked what I wanted from ‘her Jake’. I told her I wanted the truth. She asked if we were short of heroes. We have plenty of those I told her, but we could use some friends. She reminded me that the bar was her husband’s living, that it had taken a long time to set it up and they weren’t willing to lose it. She was happy to pay to keep it if that’s what it took and regarded the demands for money as a business expense, like taxes. I told her she was a fine woman and I told her about another fine woman: Helen Block, now a widow with two small children. Until then Mary had only seen the injured man in her bar as a body, now thanks to me he had become a person with a family who loved him. Jake spoke up and asked why the man had interfered when he hadn't needed to. Mary told him that perhaps it was because the man had cared: that he hadn’t wanted to see him get hurt, that perhaps he should care too and cooperate.

Finally Jake agreed to request a 'meet' with Benny and wear a ‘wire’ under his shirt. We also gave him three thousand dollars in marked bills to use as a down payment and instructed him to tell Benny that if Arnie wanted the rest he would have to come and collect it personally. Jake was understandably worried about what Benny would do to him if he saw US hanging around, but I assured him we would be outside. Just keep Benny talking I told him, and let the man hang himself.

Wednesday evening

Outside in the street we sat in the car opposite Jake’s and waited. Finally a large black limousine pulled up, but it wasn’t Benny, it was his uncle, Arnie Naylor; a point Crocker wasted no time in pointing out to me. I told him that if he thought this let Benny off the hook he was mistaken. He was involved somewhere, somehow, I was sure of it. 

Thursday morning

As arranged we met in my office, relieved Jake of the ‘wire’ and played back the recording. We listened as he told Arnie that he hadn’t talked or given anyone away, we heard him ask where Benny was and Arnie's reply that Benny was currently unemployed, that he no longer belonged to him and was no longer anything to do with him. That was a surprise. We heard Jake begin to make the deal as we’d instructed, but then the tape went dead. I suspected that he had deliberately pulled the wire and angrily reminded him we’d had a deal and asked for the three thousand dollars back. He handed it over and said he’d made a better deal. I reminded him of the issue of ‘undisclosed ownership’. Realising I was serious, and being more terrified of his wife than of Arnie or even of me, Jake immediately started panicking and offered to testify to having seen Benny kill Harry Block, and named the other guys with him at the bar that night; Lester Gantz, Al Stiller and his brother Mickey. 

Before I could open my mouth Crocker lashed out and grabbed Jake by the collar and accused him of selling out Benny so he could keep his bar; that if it came to it he would sell out his own mother. My detective has always had a short fuse, but until now I hadn’t realised how short, and the situation with his friend wasn’t helping. Thankfully Crocker stopped short of punching Jake's lights out when I yelled his name, and before any harm was done. Not that Grubert didn’t deserve it for the way he’d jerked us around, but the last thing we needed right now was someone accusing us of police brutality. I had Stavros take Jake out into the squad room and get a statement and then told him to meet Crocker down-town where they were last night. He looked with concern at Crocker and then at me before ushering Jake out of the room. 

Sometimes I forget just how young my detective is. He was standing with his back to me staring at the wall, fists clenched. It reminded me of those times I was told to go stand in the corner for misbehaving when was a kid. I wanted to tell him I was sorry things had turned out the way they had, but now was not the time. We still had a job to do.

Crocker took a deep breath, unclenched his fists and turned round to face me. His anger had dissipated a little, but I could see it was still there bubbling under the surface. Benny he said, had told him he was working in the restaurant supply business, and because Crocker is a nice kid, he wanted to believe his friend was being truthful: that he really was trying to make a new start for himself and his fiancée. Now he’d realised Benny had lied to him. I could almost see the thoughts whirring in Crocker’s head: all those years of friendship; they’d clearly meant much more to HIM than they had to Benny. I offered him the chance to sit this one out; and told him that Rizzo could fill in for him, but he refused. He told me that if he dropped out of a case just because it was personal then he would be finished as a cop. He was right of course, and at that moment I’d never felt more proud of him. I sent him down to the City Squire Inn and told him to get the key for the room opposite Benny’s, and then to meet up with Stavros at the stake-out as arranged.

Thursday evening

After I picked Valano up at his place we joined Crocker and Stavros at the stake-out opposite the motel. I noticed how tired Crocker looked, but he assured me he was alright. I wasn’t convinced, and judging by his face, neither was Stavros; he’s always had a soft spot for the kid. In hindsight, perhaps I should have ordered Crocker off the case, but I suspected it would be an order he wouldn’t obey and he was probably better off being where we could keep an eye on him. I didn’t think he’d try to warn his friend, but people do strange things when they’re under pressure. He handed me the keys to the room opposite Benny’s (1023) and informed me that the other room in the vicinity (1019) was empty. Armed with ‘walkie talkies’ Valano and I went on up to the room.

After only a short time Crocker’s voice came over the ‘portable’ to say than Benny’s car had turned into the road leading to the underground garage. I told him and Stavros to wait ten minutes and then to come up, but then a few minutes later he called again to say that they'd seen the car leaving the motel with Benny in the driver’s seat. From what they could make out it appeared he was in the vehicle on his own and heading up-town. I told Crocker and Stavros to follow him, but they suddenly found themselves pinned to the kerb when a truck pulled up at the lights next to them and its engine stalled. I instructed my detectives to come on up to the room; we’d take what we had and hope Benny would return later.

****

We gathered outside room 1021 and when I gave the nod Stavros kicked the door open. After a short fight we managed to arrest Lester Gantz and the Stiller brothers; one of whom got a punch from Valano in return for the beating HE'D received two days earlier. Gantz gave Crocker some mouth, but to his credit my detective didn’t react. Stavros checked the bedroom and came back with a shot gun and a pistol. The gun that had killed Harry Block was a 9mm and it was missing. 

I thought we’d have to wait for another day to get Benny, but thanks to Mickey Stiller opening his big yap we learned that Benny had gone to see his girlfriend and would be returning to the motel later. In the meantime I called the precinct and arranged for Saperstein and Tracy to collect our prisoners. I told them to come by cab so as not to blow the stake-out. Once they’d gone I laid out my plan to the rest of the team. 

Stavros would be our look-out in the lobby. Thanks to Lester Gantz and the Stiller brothers we had the spare key to their room. We would jam the lock and while Benny was trying to open it we would have him trapped out in the hallway with no place to go. Stavros nodded and getting into the elevator headed down to the lobby, and Valano went back to room 1023, leaving Crocker and me in 1021. I looked at my detective and could see he wasn’t happy. He told me that my plan sounded like an execution. I told him that all stake-outs are like that; that we plan them that way in the hope of ending up with a nice easy surrender. He pointed out that there was no way Benny would surrender. I asked him what he wanted me to do, set things up differently so he could satisfy some personal obligation? He reminded me that he knew Benny; that the man would see cops and immediately start ‘blasting’. So what? I said. We’ll sit around and wait until he runs out of ammunition; if I was going to give away the first round I was going to make sure none of my men were in the firing line. 

Crocker looked directly at me and without wavering asked me to let him talk to Benny; assuring me that he could talk him down, that Benny would listen to him, that no-one need get hurt; even though I could see he knew it would more than likely end that way. But I was far from convinced. Crocker’s a good cop, but he still has a lot to learn and sometimes he can be very naive. Apart from anything else I had enough on my plate with Benny at the moment; I didn’t want to have to deal with Crocker and his misplaced loyalty as well. Hoping to put a stop to his wild ideas I told him his friend was a psycho; that he was off the wall. Crocker replied that he knew exactly what Benny was, and once again asked me to let him talk to the man: that he 'owed him'. I knew what was happening. I’d seen it many times before: I knew that most likely his friend would end up dead and even though Crocker also knew this he'd convinced himself that Benny could be persuaded to come quietly and live out the rest of his days in jail, if not for his own sake, but for that of his family and his fiancée; another person he’d used. I didn't fall for it for a second. 

I told Crocker if he was right, then no one would get hurt. But if he was wrong, and there was that unaccounted for 9mm probably at that moment sitting in Benny’s pocket… He replied that he wasn’t playing some game with himself, that he knew what Benny was: he always had, and that he himself was no hero – a point a lot of people would disagree with I thought – then he said again that he 'owed' Benny; for what I had no idea. I reminded him that he owed the guys he works with as well; in fact he owed them a lot more. I knew he understood and I felt mean for reminding him of his obligation to the department, but it didn’t stop him from playing dirty, calling me by my first name and telling me that this was something he had to do.

I realised that time was passing and Benny could return at any moment. Neither of us was prepared to back down, but perhaps a compromise could be reached. I agreed to let Crocker try and talk to Benny, but only if we did things my way. Stavros would remain on look-out in the lobby, Valano and I would hide behind a house keeping cart outside room 1023, and Crocker would wait inside 1021 behind a mattress. Not much protection I know, but I was hoping that since the thing had metal springs inside, it might be possible to deflect a bullet away from its target – my detective. After everything was set up I wished Crocker good luck and told him to be careful because funerals and flowers are expensive. I was pleased that he had the decency to thank me for agreeing to let him try and talk to his friend, but then I ruined the moment when I called him 'kid' again. He asked me not to call him that anymore - something that's not going to happen any time soon! 

****

We’d been in position for about an hour when Stavros radioed to say Benny was on his way up. I told him to follow in the next elevator. A few minutes later Benny appeared in the hallway. He reached into his pocket for his keys and opened the door to his room and found himself face to face with an armed Bobby Crocker. 

I heard my detective tell Benny to stay cool, and Benny reply that somehow he’d always known that Bobby would be the one who would try and stop him. I heard Crocker tell him to stand still and take his hand out of his pocket. My detective had obviously realised that’s where the missing 9mm was. Benny then began taunting Crocker. At first he merely asked him why he was hiding behind a barricade pointing a gun at him, when such things were unnecessary. Then it got a little more personal with Benny telling Crocker that he couldn't fight him, that they were the same kind of people; something that might have been true once upon a time, but since those days Crocker had made a life for himself away from his former neighbourhood; he’d been in the Army and proudly served his country in Vietnam where he’d been decorated, and now he was a highly respected and decorated police officer. No way could his friend even begin to match that. 

Benny continued spewing his poison, but to his credit Crocker’s face remained immobile, his gun pointing steadily at his friend. He called out to Benny again asking him to take his hand out of his pocket; that he’d remain alive if he did so, but the man wasn’t listening. He just kept on at Crocker, trying to throw him off balance, but my detective was too well trained to react. In the end Benny completely lost it, pulled the gun out of his pocket, and opened fire on Crocker who instantly threw himself to the floor. I called out to Benny who turned and fired at Valano and me, but it was too late and in a couple of shots we had him down.

I immediately panicked and ran into the room to check on Crocker. For what seemed like an eternity no sound came from the other side of the mattress, then he pulled himself up and assured me he was alright; that he hadn’t been hit. No he hadn't, but I could see by the way he was acting that he was in shock. Shakily he followed me out of the room into the corridor and knelt down next to his friend’s body. At that moment the elevator door opened and a young woman appeared. She took one look at the scene before her and at Crocker, but before she could do anything else Stavros quickly ushered her back into the elevator and took her back down to the lobby. I assumed she was Benny’s fiancée. I asked Valano if he was alright; he’d been the one who had killed Benny and he was looking extremely sick. He nodded and headed back to our room.

Crocker looked up at me and asked what he should say to the girl, but as much as I wanted to say some kind words to him, now wasn’t the time. I asked him instead who he was feeling sorry for; Benny, her, or himself? I could see that he wasn't firing on all cylinders, so to cover himself he replied that he felt sorry for everyone. I told him to make it Valano; he’d just killed a man and that wasn't easy, and he was probably throwing up his last meal as we spoke. I hadn’t meant to be sharp with the kid, but I felt he’d been through enough and told him to learn something from today’s events and go and check on Valano. Picking up the 9mm from the floor he got up and slowly walked away. 

Two weeks later

I walked into Crocker’s hospital room. He'd woken up earlier that morning and was lying in bed propped up with pillows, his eyes were closed. The heart monitor and oxygen mask were gone. His left arm was in a sling and all but one of the IVs had been removed. The doctor had told me he was still weak and sleeping a lot. He was also fighting a slight infection, and didn’t remember much about what had happened, but the doctors were confident this was temporary and he was otherwise recovering well. I watched him for a while as he slept, and then I went and stood by the window and looked outside. My emotions were threatening to get the better of me: I hadn’t realised until he'd been hurt just how much the kid meant to me: that somehow he’d got under my skin. Before he’d been shot he’d been brooding and angry. Not at me or any of the others I didn't think, but with himself. It had been eating away at him and his work had suffered as a result and so had our relationship and I’d had to yell at him on more than one occasion; something I now regretted.

“What happened? You give all the bad guys the day off?” He asked quietly after a few minutes had passed.

“Would you believe me if I said I had?” I replied turning round. He laughed softly.

“Not for a second.” He replied. I looked at him.

“Well you’re looking a lot better than you were the last time I saw you.” I began. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm OK, tired though.” He replied softly. “I keep falling asleep in the middle of conversations which is a little... annoying.” Hardly surprising I thought considering what his body had been through recently. He lifted his right arm and looked at the IV then at me. I could see he had something on his mind, but didn’t know where to begin. "Lieutenant I..." 

“Have I ever told you I’m psychic?” I began, cutting him off. I sat down on the bed. He shook his head. “For instance, I know you're angry because Benny lied to you and you think everyone but you saw him for what he was, and you were annoyed that I asked you to go and check on Valano instead of letting you stay out in the lobby, and that I sent someone else to take Marie home and notify Benny's parents. Valano’s a good man,” I told him, “but killing always makes him sick. It’s something he doesn’t like talking about; apparently it doesn’t fit in with his macho tough guy image.” Crocker smiled slightly, “I didn't want you to be involved with the clear up operation and sent you to check on Valano because I felt you’d been through enough with Benny; he was your friend, someone you cared about and had been close to, but he'd also tried to kill you, and I could see you were in shock." Crocker lowered his eyes and then looked back up at me. 

“I let you down, I’m sorry,” he began quietly. The night he’d been shot Stavros had said something about him wanting to tell me he was sorry, but I couldn’t work out what he had to be sorry for. 

“Let me down how?” I asked. He reminded me of our disagreement in the motel room about the best way to deal with Benny. How he felt he owed the man and wanted to persuade him to come quietly without any bloodshed, how he’d presumed to know better than me when we were setting up the stakeout... I’d thought about that a lot as well and had come to the conclusion that we were both right. I told him that however we’d gone about it Benny would still be dead. The important thing was that we had worked together as a team and together we had succeeded in getting a piece of garbage off the streets, and one day, together, we would bring down Arnie Naylor as well. Crocker nodded and closed his eyes. I patted him on the shoulder and got up off the bed.

****

Sometime soon he would begin to remember what had happened; that Benny’s fiancée had tried to kill him, that she’d killed Officer Ray DeMarco, and Crocker had been forced to shoot her to prevent her from killing the captain. But not today.


End file.
